


Nightmare

by teh_gelfling



Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Generation One
Genre: M/M, Slash, Triggery Content, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-19
Updated: 2014-01-19
Packaged: 2018-01-09 06:58:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 710
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1142904
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/teh_gelfling/pseuds/teh_gelfling
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><a href="tf-rare-pairing.livejournal.com">tf_rare_pairing</a> weekly request prompt: January 12, 2014 – Red Alert/Bluestreak – smile for me, darlin'</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nightmare

**Author's Note:**

> Aaaand another one. Wow, two prompts written for the same week. On time. This is a momentous occasion. XD
> 
> If you feel like it, leave a comment or critique. I love knowing what my readers like and don't like about my stories.

Red Alert was jerked out of a sound recharge cycle by a spark-stopping scream. Crisis protocols kicked in, a wave of calm confidence washing over him even as he frantically tried to assess the situation. Decepticons? His pistol was already in hand when he realised it was the mech next to him causing the commotion.

Bluestreak thrashed wildly, caught up in the throes of what was clearly a terrible nightmare. His optics were lit, but there was no awareness behind them. His screams were punctuated by desperate whimpers, the sounds pulling at Red's spark. A hand connected solidly with his thigh and he winced. The mech was strong.

Grabbing the Praxian or trying to shake him out of the flux was more likely to wind up with a rifle barrel in his face, but with the volume Bluestreak was screaming at, there was little chance Red would be heard if he simply spoke. He might just have to chance the contact and hope he moved fast enough. He took a vent and readied himself to back off swiftly, then lowered a hand to his lover's shoulder, shaking gently. “Blue! Wake up, sweetspark.”

As expected, the young mech reacted instantly. But instead of pulling his rifle, his hand lashed out and caught Red by a sensory horn with the unerring accuracy he was famous for. The Lamborghini was pulled close to that pale face, usually so happy and open but now snarling, mouth twisted and optics blazing white. His frame tensed, but he yielded to the pull, hoping that Blue's processor would catch up before Red could be maimed as long as he didn't resist.

It seemed to work. The lack of a struggle appeared to help set battle protocols into standby and allowed higher processes to boot faster. Bluestreak blinked as consciousness filtered in and he registered his surroundings.

“Oh, Primus, Red. I'm sorry,” he babbled as he let go his grip. “Did I hurt you? I did, didn't I? I'm so sorry. I had a dream and it was good for a while and then it _changed_ and I was in Praxus again and I was shooting at the Decepticons but none of my shots did any damage even though they were hitting and my family was blown up and Prowl was there and he got shot and then everyone else I know was there and and everyone _died!_ Except me. _Always_ except me. I don't want you to die! I don't want to be the only one any more!” The gunner wrapped his arms around Red Alert and sobbed into his armour. “Please don't die!”

Red manoeuvred them to a sitting position on the edge of the berth and embraced the young one. “I'm uninjured, and I assure you that I have no plans to die in the immediate future, or even in the next several centuries.” He pressed a kiss to the dark red chevron and began stroking silver doorwings softly.

They sat in silence for a while, until the sobs quieted and vents evened out. “Should we go visit Prowl so you can see he is well?” Red suggested.

Blue's engine gave a little hiccough as he nodded. “Yeah. That'd... that'd be good. But later. I don't want him to worry about me too much, and if I show up like this, he will. Just... just need to calm down.”

“As you wish.”

A weak giggle from the Datsun prompted a querying noise. “It's just, that's a line from a movie me and Sides and Sunny watch sometimes. And when Westley says it, it means he loves Buttercup, but I don't think you meant it like that,” he explained, a little embarrassed. “It's stupid. I don't know why I thought of it.” He buried his face in Red's neck.

Red pondered for a moment. “If you wish to interpret it like that, I wouldn't be opposed. In fact, I think I'd rather like it.” He raised the pale face out of his neck cabling to look into baby blue optics. “Smile for me, sweetspark? I hate to see you so sad.”

It took a moment for the meaning behind the words to truly sink in, but when they did, the smile Bluestreak unleashed was absolutely blinding.


End file.
